


Bedside Manner

by Limitlxss



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: BFFs, Fluff, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 08:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14930546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limitlxss/pseuds/Limitlxss
Summary: The prospect of going home to a cold, empty apartment just doesn't appeal. The solution? Turn up on a certain Redfield's doorstep in the middle of the night. And try not to bleed all over it.





	Bedside Manner

The plane had touched down only an hour ago but already he was stood outside the bland and unassuming door that led into what he knew to be a cosy, clean apartment. The bedroom would be a mess, it always was but the apartment itself wouldn’t be.

His hesitation came from the late hour, in the small hours of the morning when the apartment’s lights were off and there was only silence from within.

She’d given him the key knowing full well the hours he could be keeping; kept a stocked medical kit knowing the kind of state he could be in and yet that night, seven months after the events in DC with Arias, he stopped at her apartment door and didn’t let himself in.

Was he sure that he wanted to burden her? She’d invited it, left him an open invitation but was he really sure that he didn’t want to just go home to his empty apartment where he’d be bothering no-one, where he had a bottle of good whiskey waiting for him to drown in?

Yes.

It was selfish. It was unlike him to put his own needs above those of others but right then, with a hole in his leg, tears in his shirt and the chasm of depression yawning before him; waiting to swallow him whole with the futility of it all, he needed to see her. He needed to see a familiar face- someone who wouldn’t ply him with questions, debriefing him even before he was out of his bloodied clothes. He needed to see her.

He could let himself in, it was why she’d left him a key but he didn’t want to steal in under the cover of darkness like a thief. So he knocked.

And knocked again.

“Alright, hold your horses,” Claire grumbled, voice thick with sleep as she approached the door. Who in all the hells was knocking at that hour and why couldn’t it wait until morning? “Who is it?” she called, cursing the lack of a peep-hole the way she always did when someone was at the door. The gun in her hand ensured that she didn’t need to know who was on the other side in order to be confident in her own safety though.

“Leon,” the agent answered smoothly.

He could literally hear all traces of sleep leaving her in an instant once she heard his soft assertion and the soft thump as she dumped the gun on the side table before hurriedly opening the door to him meant that he was wearing a small, tired smile when she was revealed to him.

As soon as he saw her, framed in the doorway and shielding her eyes from the harsh glare of the hallway lighting, he felt his breath leave him. She was stunning, even with her auburn hair tousled with sleep. Especially with her hair tousled like that.

He didn’t have time to admire her further though, because she laid eyes on his reasons for being there, her eyes widening in alarm as she reached to pull him inside.

“You’re going to bleed all over my doorstep, get in here already,” she berated lightly, tugging him by the hand through to the lounge and flipping the light on as she went. “Take a seat- I’m going to get the supplies. And don’t bleed all over my couch!” she ordered with slightly worried smirk over her shoulder as she moved off down the hall.

Just hearing her voice was like music to his ears as he was tugged inside and he gingerly lowered himself onto the couch, mindful of his myriad wounds. They were all bandaged- his employers wouldn’t let him bleed out in the middle of debriefing- but after the travelling he’d been doing and the length of time it had been since he’d first received medical aid, they were in dire need of changing.

He was already rolling his shirt up to get a better look at the place where claws had raked across his chest, the bandages beneath the ragged holes in his shirt darkened with blood, when Claire returned with the first aid kit and he spied the look of pained sympathy on her face before she was all business once more. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he assured her, to a disbelieving scoff from the redhead.

“Sure it isn’t. What did you get yourself into this time?”

“The usual,” he replied blandly, earning himself another scolding look from her as she reached to touch the edge of the bandages. He watched her as she took up the end to begin unwinding them, unaware of how her focus was divided between the bloodied material and the contours of his abs.

“You might be more comfortable if you just took that off, Leon,” she observed, nodding to how he was holding his shirt in place. “The pants are gonna have to come off too if you want me to sort out your leg.”

“You’re a real charmer,” he replied wryly, carefully pulling the shirt over his head, teeth gritted as raising his arms pulled on the tears across his chest. Claire made a soft noise of sympathetic pain on seeing the ragged wounds, thin though they were and Leon peered down at them with her, inspecting them as best he could. They were a little red around the edges and fresh blood wept from the bottom edges, evidence of how he’d pushed himself a little too hard.

With characteristic gentleness, Claire dabbed the blood from his chest, disinfected the wounds and then bandaged him back up, the pair of them quiet while she concentrated. She apologised for hurting him when he hissed as she used the disinfectant but otherwise he bore the pain in silence. He had to admit that once she was done, he felt a lot more comfortable, some of the pained tension leaking from his shoulders and she smiled when she noticed.

“Okay tough guy, pants off,” she ordered with a smirk, standing over him with her arms folded and hip cocked. “Don’t be shy now.”

Raising a brow in weary amusement, Leon kept his hands right where they were for a moment. “Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired. What happened to ‘please’?”

“Leon Kennedy if you don’t want me to rip those pants off you right now, consequences be damned, you’ll take them off yourself right now,” she replied, holding his disbelieving stare for several moments before snickering and reaching forward to smack him upside the head. “Get your mind outta the gutter right now mister. Do you want my help or not?”

“If it’s going to carry on being at the cost of my dignity, I’m not so sure anymore,” he replied, still chuckling gently after the cuff he’d taken.

Claire shook her head in exasperation, placated only when the wounded agent unbuckled his belt and undid the ruined cargo pants to push them down. It would be a lie to say she was unaware of the unresolved sexual tension in the air but she was trying so hard to keep things friendly between them.

An argument could be made for Leon being married to his job, seeing as he seemed to put his work ahead of everything else in his life- to his detriment, so she’d heard- but Claire knew that it was more than that.

The minor legend sitting on her couch was keeping secrets and while she knew the government expected as much, those secrets, the apparent futility of the job and no doubt a host of other things were driving the agent to the bottle. Hard. Her brother had let slip to her the way Leon had been found out in Colorado when he and Rebecca enlisted his help. Honestly she was a little surprised that he’d not asked for a drink since coming in.

“Earth to Redfield, are you there? Earth to-”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she replied, looking away. “Spaced out a bit while you were making a big deal out of taking your pants off.”

“And there was me thinking that you were enjoying the show,” he quipped back with a fake sigh of disappointment.

Rolling her eyes, she moved closer once more, kneeling before him to begin unwinding the bandage from around his thigh. “If bleeding all over my couch is your idea of wooing a girl, you’ve got more screws loose than I thought.”

Chuckling softly, Leon relaxed and watched her work. She was no nurse but she’d definitely picked up a few things over the years and it was deftly that she cleaned and disinfected the puncture in his leg before wrapping it in fresh bandages. Once more he was quiet while she worked to let her concentrate and he focused instead on how at ease he felt while around her. The stresses of work just seemed to fall away for a while and he could just be himself. The smart-mouthing was a part of him though, he couldn’t stop that.

“There, all done,” Claire announced, patting his knee before rising to get rid of the soiled bandages. “I suppose you’ll want feeding too? And painkillers, and something to drink and somewhere to stay,” she listed off on her fingers with a brow raised. 

“Please?” he replied with a helpless grin.

“You’re worse than a stray,” she grumbled affectionately before leaving the lounge with a long-suffering sigh to fetch the things he’d need.

Meanwhile Leon stretched carefully on the couch and sighed softly, leaning into the cushions and closing his eyes. Going to Claire’s apartment instead of his own home might not have been the right decision, but he was glad that he’d not overthought it and talked himself out of it.

On her return, Claire paused in the doorway to look over the weary agent. He looked as tired as he probably felt and her heart went out to him. What she wouldn’t give to have him share even some of the burden he carried but he had changed so much, even since Harvardville. He’d put on a brave face and insist that there was nothing wrong despite all evidence to the contrary. Or as she’d heard from Chris, go to great lengths to just be left alone. His turning up on her doorstep was unlike him, those days.

With leftover cold pizza, a large glass of water and some strong painkillers all loaded onto a tray, she moved back into her lounge to hand it all over. “If you need anything else, give me a shout. I’m gonna go change the bedsheets for you,” she announced, smiling gently. He may never let her in but she would help where she could and ask nothing of him if she could help it, since he’d obviously given so much of himself to others already- willingly or not.

“Ah, Claire no, I can’t take your bed.”

“You can, and you will. Honestly Leon, you’re wounded, you’re allowed to not be so much of a gentleman.”

“But-”

“No buts! None!”

No further argument was forthcoming so Claire smirked and turned away, moving off down the hall to the linen closet to fetch a change of sheets and the spare blanket and pillow for the couch.

Some twenty minutes later, the sheets were changed and the bed was ready for her guest. However on returning to the lounge, she had to sigh and shake her head in exasperation. The agent was already practically dropping off on the couch, his plate and glass empty, the painkillers gone.

“Come on you can make it to the bedroom, wounded or not. I’m not leaving you on the couch,” she called gently, moving closer to help him up. He waved her away with a soft mumble and tentatively eased himself upright, yawning widely as she watched just to be sure that he was okay.

“Thanks, Claire,” he said quietly as he moved to be level with her. They were close enough that he could feel the warmth of her through the strappy top she was wearing (a girly contrast to the sweatpants she also had on) and he swore her breath caught for a moment as their eyes met. He was the first to look away though, taking another tired step past her.

Before he could progress too far down the hall and away from her she reached out to him, grabbing his hand and making him look back at her, a question in his weary eyes. “You’re welcome Leon. Anytime.” She let his hand slip from hers then and if his hand hovered for a moment, if there was just a hint of longing in those beautiful blue eyes of his, she didn’t call him on it.

It was only once Leon had disappeared into the darkness of her room that she finally turned away, quietly wishing him a good night before getting settled for what remained of it.


End file.
